


After the Calamity

by CrypticAuthour



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Canon Universe, Comfort, Comfort No Hurt, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gen, I think we could all use some fluff during these times, Light-Hearted, One Shot, can be read as ship if the reader wants, these kids deserve a nice break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23702440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrypticAuthour/pseuds/CrypticAuthour
Summary: Link looked over with eyebrows raised as Zelda began to snicker.  Shy puffs of laughter would escape.  When finally she noticed her companion’s stare all the princess could offer was -“You’re a homeowner.  Link thehomeowner.”  He nodded slowly.  She poorly hid her smile behind her small hand.  “I’m sorry. I suppose I’ve never imagined you… domestic before.”  He smiled at that.  He ruffled his hair and curled his hands into ‘claws’.  Looking about with predatory intent.  Though he couldn’t for all his efforts rid the smile from his face.  Zelda’s only grew wider.“Truly you’ve taken to the wild! The house a mere farce!”---After the battle with Calamity Ganon, Link and Zelda take the night to recover.
Relationships: Link & Zelda
Comments: 4
Kudos: 78





	After the Calamity

“It’s different.” Is the first thing she says as they look over Hyrule Town. Her eyes bright and distant. He agrees. Even without entering the castle proper they could look out over the ruins of everything she knew from the gates. 

He looks over to the Eastern side where he had grown up. Looks over where his mother’s grave should be nestled amongst their small herb garden. Whenever he had asked about her, his father would say the same thing. 

(“She held more courage in the tips of her ears than all of Hyrule’s armies.”) 

His father, a bold man of loyalty and few words, believed he could never compare to that quality of hers. Even when he swiftly climbed the ranks to Captain of the Guards, Link’s father still said the same thing. 

He had to grow much wiser in years before he understood. 

Link grew up in the barracks and training grounds of the soldiers. His early memories of steel and honour more than of rattles and nap times. 

Through his youth Link knew more about the King than his own bloodline. The stories painted him somewhere between fairytales and a warmonger. 

He didn’t get to see Zelda for the first time until his father was anointed with the Grand Captain title. 

The house, the careful culturation of the herb garden, and his mother’s small tombstone are gone, but he pretends he can see them anyway. 

“If only I had been faster.” Zelda finally speaks again. Looks away from her kingdom's ruins. She clutches her fingers together so tightly they go bone white. She still stands tall after all this time. Her slight tremble means nothing as her head is still held high. 

With a moment of reluctance, she finally turns away from what she was pretending to see. They would need to leave soon. Perhaps Link could venture inside and gather what remains of what was needed for them to move on. Though, if night fell, they could take refuge within the castle. 

But, if she was being honest with herself, Zelda didn’t want to do that. She didn’t, couldn’t, spend another second between the ruins that once been her home. These were no longer the corridors which saw her grow up day to day. For years they became the prison her father enforced. Then for a century it became the tomb she shared with a beast composed of pure malice. 

Link slid his scarred (so much more battle marked than she remembered) fingers between her bone-white ones. She gasped. Coming back to the present. To them standing on the ruined castle steps. He gently massaged circulation back into her hands. His eyebrows drawn tight together. The flush that came unbidden to her cheeks slowed the returning pink to her trembling fingertips. 

“Thank you.” When he stepped away. 

Link nods. Stands ready to serve and protect as ever. She tries to look through that readiness. All this time has not made him easier to read for her. Even forgiving being out of touch with social interactions, Zelda wished for the power to see past Link’s outward quiet and hear the probably cacophonous inner workings. 

Had even once admitted this meekly to him an age ago. A royal ball where her heart hadn’t been in it, but Zelda could have sworn she had followed through on her crown princess duties _perfectly_. Certainly to the studied letter. Yet it still felt like her father found her lacking in some way. His eyes hard whenever looking upon his own daughter. 

He had wished the guests at the end of the event a fond good night, grateful for their shared time and mingled jubilation, but said nothing to her when they parted ways to their respective quarters. 

Link found her out on the tower balcony. Sat beside her to watch the stars. Though he watched her more if memory served correctly. 

“He used to put away his foolish pride and that crown when we were done.” She tucked into herself further. “Used to carry me to bed and Mother would read me a story. Sometimes… sometimes he helped provide voices.” 

Hating how her voice cracked Zelda sat up straighter. “Course I’m much too old for such things, but…” 

“Link.” Aware that his eyes still watched her face with the same intensity she had witnessed Guardians employ during training with Shiekah Scientists. “Do you think he’s a good man? My father I mean I know he’s a good king. No one would doubt that, but I mean…” 

Oh no. The dam gates were open and an entire Zora’s army worth of rambling was surging out. 

“I also like to think he’s a good man as well as a king, but maybe the two aren’t in direct correlation. Then the data point of if he’s a good father. I personally haven’t studied these points in relation to one another, but I have read a few books on the subject of morality versus roles and…” 

Her brief burst of headwind petered out. Link was still staring. Maybe a furrow of his brow here or his jaw shifting slightly there, but no real immediate emotion was present on his face for Zelda to discern whether or not what she just said had _been a mistake_. 

Looking away from her personal guard, it struck her how monumentally foolish she had just been. Though they had been edging into the occasional waters of informality together, Link was still the Light of Hyrule. The Hero chosen by the Master Sword and most importantly, sworn to fealty in regards to the King. She cursed her flippant tongue and errant words and - 

He gingerly tilted her face back towards his. A new fire to his eyes. That she could see and discern. Though his mouth still never produced a sound. 

“What?” The crown princess barked defensively. After a moment Zelda was gifted a single firm nod. “Link… which question are you answering?” He held up a finger 

“Are you saying the first question or to wait?” Was he being particularly obtuse on purpose? Link held up one finger again. So first query then. Though from his evolving expressions he had more to ‘say’ and clarify. 

“I wish I could read you easier.” She huffed out. Frustrated by her own limitations and situation. Link’s eyes widened and ears went shock pink. “Wait! I didn’t mean - !” 

But his hand, which had still been delicately turning the lower slope of her jaw to look at him by a single finger-point, flinched away. Fingers curling into the palm limply. 

\---

The routine of home was as much a part of Link’s muscle memory as the adrenaline of combat. Front door never locked. He probably had a key for it somewhere, but the ache of his bones upon finally arriving at a place of rest assures him that honestly he needn’t worry. 

Either Link had left the lights on or one of his kindly neighbours made sure that crossing his threshold felt proper. Felt the low burning hearth to warm his often weary body. He sighs. Breaths out the wild. The chaos of modern Hyrule with its sporadic pockets of peace and the spatterings of once familiar landmarks. 

Breaths in the scent of wood shavings still dusting up the corners. The meals whose spice and taste still peppered the air. And the linens strung up just outside his open window. 

He settles his bag down. Plops down all his armour, gear, weaponry of various usage, prepared meals tucked away in several pockets and Shiekah Slate. With it, both internal and external, burdens are now gone in place of his house. 

Zelda gasped. Link returned to himself and spun around. She hovered in the doorway. Looking around in disbelief. Like she had stepped into a very curious dream. Hand to her mouth as Zelda remained at the entrance. Oh good Hylia he had _Princess Zelda_ at his home. 

Link leapt into courteous action. Quickly pulling out a chair at the table. Felt his face bluster hot as he held out a seat for her to take. 

She walked past him. Hand still pressed to her lips. Now joined by its twin. Her eyes quickly filling with small tears. 

“After all this time you’ve kept them.” Which was true. He looked up at the mounted memorials she stood before. They too were part of the ritual to his home. Gingerly lowering each one from its nesting hooks, then delicately attending to it with fine polish. It was quite meditative. Gave him an active role in his mourning. 

Once he regained his core memories of what was now a separate life a hundred years ago, he would never let anymore go. Link attended to his recollections of his past just the same as his dedication to his friends' weapons. 

So as he oiled Urbosa’s Scimitar of the Seven, he mentally traced the hook of her smile. The gleam off her jewels and eyes. Her often serious face as she gazed out upon Gerudo Village. The fate of her tight knit, warrior community thriving in a cruel ocean of desert. If the gaze was one of worry or one of pride, then that was a secret to everyone but Urbosa. 

He moved on to checking Revali’s bow. Ran pinched fingers up and down feeling the delicate balance of taut strength versus snapping pressure. He admired the Rito, as he did all the Champions, but in particular Revali’s boldness astounded him. The threat of total calamity loomed overhead so long any pure enthusiasm palled. Yet Revali and his assuredness crowed on. Often at the expense of peace with Link, but Link couldn’t fault the other warrior. He just never knew what to say. 

One day, Link hoped, that he and Daruk could share a feast again. The bold (even by Goron standards) comrade would rip through the Rock Roast while the insatiable Hylian would take point on literally everything else, apart from the local candy. You couldn’t beat Goron City spices. And you couldn’t beat Boulder Breaker. When Link set it back carefully in its cradle after smoothing his hands down its sides, he let himself privately admit that the only thing stronger than being hit by Daruk and his weapon - was the grief Link still felt at losing him. 

Unequivocally gentle and kind Mipha, who watched him grow from childhood. The shine off her freshly polished trident reminded him of her eyes. She tended to hide her smile, preferring a demure air. Yet her eyes, those soft yellow almost hazel eyes, never faded. They struck him every time, Link thought as he finished the attentive ritual, without saying a word. Undoubtable a character trait they shared. He wished they could have shared more. 

Then there were his memories of Princess Zelda… but… 

Zelda was not part of his remembrance anymore. She was here. And here was now. 

He kept the chair pulled out for her. Angled it so if she took a step back or a stumble away, the gentle birch would welcome her. Link slowly walked over. Made his approach deliberate and heard. Purposely pressed down into the noiser floorboards. 

She didn’t move. Didn’t angle towards or away. Didn’t stop roaming her eyes over the champion’s personal prized effects. Her fingers trembled. 

Oh. So Zelda was here. But at the moment she wasn’t _here_. 

Same as when they were on the castle steps. He too had taken in where things should and shouldn’t be. Matched up the misshapen puzzle pieces together till they made the full picture. 

This was his home though. Where he hung up his sword and worries. For Zelda though it was all new. All foreign. This would take time. 

Time dripped on with the candle wax. Burned lower on the wick and patient as the deepening night. Wind would whip the linens to crack. Fireflies made shadow puppets across the material. He should unpack his bag. Pull down then fold those linens. Maybe cook something. For now he stood beside her. Hopefully shield her from a memory he couldn’t see. 

His patience paid off. Zelda’s eyes, foggy, finally cleared. Wiped at the red, wet corners. 

“Thank you Link.” She turned to him. “I’m sure they appreciate it too.” Briefly the fog did return, but Zelda caught herself. Stared at her reflection in one of the hung shields. 

“Did… you keep anything from me?” The princess’ voice was careful - hesitant even, but the green of her eyes glinted with mischief. Link blamed his dropped guard for the sound he made. His wide eyes darted between her not so innocent face to the fresh flower by his bedside. 

Those keen, playful eyes followed his panicked line of sight. Easily found the delicate white and blue specimen. Silent Princess swayed with the wayward night air breezing through the open window. The small blue vase had been a house warming present from Bolson. Link had collected a modest bouquet outside Kakariko Village. Listened to the Great Fairy coquettishly ask him if he was plucking up the delightful blossoms for her. 

(He did leave one on the edge of her water with a blue rupee.) 

Zelda hid her grin behind her hand. “I’m glad they’re still growing.” 

Link nodded. He had a small garden of them thriving in his backyard amongst the wildflowers. He planned to show her tomorrow light. She spared him a small smile then settled primly at the table. 

He sat across from her. Mentally thanked Bolson’s insistence on two chairs for a house of one. Though Zelda’s restlessness wasn’t abated for long. 

“Link? Do you have any tea per chance?” He blinked at her for a moment. Wheels turning over her perfectly innocent request. 

Then leapt once again into swift, courteous actions. 

Tea! 

Tea for Zelda!

He pulled one of the ceramic pots down and peered inside. After a nod and setting it down, Link ran outside. His cooking pan rested upon unlit coals and wood. 

Swiftly he lifted up the entire cast iron pan. Dashed around his house. Kneeled down to his pond. 

Stopped. 

Thought through the solution. Extra effort tonight would be worth it. 

Hoisting up the simple pot again, Link sprinted back to the front of his house. 

“Link?” Zelda stood in his doorway. He had made it to the start of the bridge. Sheepishly he grinned and held up a finger. Just a moment please. 

Then leapt off the cliff side.

With a cry, Zelda was at the edge in an instant. Gripped the grass and dirt. Peered about wildly. The water far below rippling and dark. An upturned cooking pot bubbled up. Finally, after far too long, Link’s golden mop of hair breached the water’s surface. 

He sputtered a bit and spit out a lilypad.

“Link, what are you doing?” Zelda called. Startled Link craned his neck to see her face, lit by the nearby village and modal homes, concerned and confused. Not looking away he pointed to the far off waterfall. 

She looked between Link, the waterfall, the cooking pot bobbing in the water, to the waterfall, back to Link, to the cooking pot, then to the canister of tea through the open doorway. 

“Are you concerned with… me drinking standing water?” She called the question to him very slowly. 

Link nodded. Sloshing water as his chin dipped beneath the surface. 

“Boiling the water should take care of any impurities.” Zelda explained delicately. 

And sheepishly Link climbed back up with the cooking pot strapped to his back. He set the water filled pan back on its cradle. His already deep red face glowed bright as he lit a fire. 

He flexed his scarred hand while small bubbles rolled and popped in the water. There was a juvenile burn still pink across his left forearm. Link gestured with that arm across the pot to the softened dirt and grass. Zelda kneeled across from him. 

“I wasn’t really allowed in the kitchens. But I’ve always respected it as a practical application of chemistry. You can really learn a lot by studying the application. The resources available, harvesting practices, evolved culture. Though that’s less chemistry I suppose.” She trailed off to poke a small branch around in the dirt. Link didn’t recognise what symbols she was absentmindedly doodling, merely that he saw them all over her notes back in her study. 

“Oh, but that is a thought. Have there been any new recipes or all they all founded in recipes from our time? Have you ever requested a dish and found the knowledge lost?” Her eyes were bright and she leaned dangerously over the almost full boiling water. The powerful Light of Hyrule pounced forward. Zelda fell back. “Link! You-!” She looked down at the furious rising and popping of bubbles in the bowl’s belly. 

“Oh.” Her shoulders bunched up as the princess made herself very small. “I really don’t know anything do I? I fought Calamity Ganon for a hundred years… and yet I know nothing.” 

Before she could curl deeper, Link shifted around the pot and tilted her chin up. The light of the fire turned his right eye into a burning sapphire. He didn’t let up on his gaze. His left eye as dark and deep blue as the night surrounding them. The flickering light caught the fading silver and pinks of his many scars. He breathed deep until she breathed out of her shell. 

“I fought Calamity Ganon for a hundred years and I know… enough?” 

Link gave a tight smile around his eyes. Better. 

“Enough for tonight certainly.” 

His smile grew tighter, but it was time to steep the tea. He rose. As Link headed towards his house, a small hand grabbed his sleeve. 

“If we could, perhaps, I think I’d like to have the first cup outside.” She asked like she was unsure if it was okay. She asked like she couldn’t just command him to not only fetch her a cup, but the whole pot as well with any fixings she may desire. Zelda asked like she wasn't the princess - wasn’t the last of a royal bloodline walking around. 

His smile was easier. Of course. 

There were plenty of spoons in his house. They were pretty handy. The good majority of his diet out of the field came from a bowl and spoon. (He was stubborn enough to occasionally dig into seared meats still with the utensil). 

He shifted through his coffee-brown jars and pulled down two white mugs - accented the distinct regional blue. After tying off the sizeable meshbag filled with yellow and white flowers, Link dropped it into the pot. Then he loaded up the light brown tray with anything he could think of. Would this be enough for her? Did she need more?? He could fight some bees! Bees for honey!! 

What did Zelda even fancy in regards to tea? It had been a century since he had been in the presence of both her and a delicate, steaming cup. He didn’t have to test this one for poison. Didn’t have to eye up the kitchen staff who delivered it for weapons. Didn’t have to stand stoic by her side while Zelda got to enjoy the rare, quiet pleasure. 

He needn’t do a lot now in these times. But he wanted to. 

With the ladened tray, Link lifted the soft wood and returned outside. Zelda stopped tracing the sky with her finger as he walked out. 

Her face lit up softly. The fire sparkling across her peachy skin. Once the tray had been set and as Link began to put water in the kettle, Zelda perused the tray’s content’s. 

“Oh Lanayru Blue pottery!” Pointing ecstatically at the mugs. “They’re still the same!” At Link’s curious expression the young woman plucked one up. Her dainty index finger tracing the simple line. 

“This technique was brought into Loshlo Harbour, centuries ago by far off traders who specialised in it. Solely remained an import _when_ -” Her hands splayed out at the dramatic pause.” -the faience was traded to the upper Lanayru region. There, not only was the particular usage of tin-glazing recognised, but the stone of marl.” 

Quietly, Link checked the kettle. Almost done. 

“So they were familiar with calcium carbonate mudstone, _and_ the usage of tin oxide, particularly from the other pottery technique we learned from trading, maiolica, but it never occurred to the regional Hylians to combine the two!” 

As stealthily as he could, he poured one cup up with enough room for anything to be added. Zelda was gesturing to the _unique shade of blue from Hylian dye craft, born from Hateno which is_ really _interesting because_ \- he slyly swapped the empty mug for the full one. 

He filled his own mug up then splashed milk to pale the concoction. Link settled back with a smile. Zelda’s expositing voice washed over him. His heart ached as it was soothed by the familiarity. Personally he was only following patches of her speech, but that light of hers… 

It warmed him more than the fire. More than the sun high at noon. Link, anointed the Hero of Hyrule and the Light, especially by Zelda herself knew that the latter designation was a mere temporary mantle. 

The real Light of Hyrule, in his mind, was sitting across from him. Was sitting across from him and wildly off her original point (now on fertiliser?). Very rarely the once upon a time princess would deign to remember breathing or taking delicate sips. 

He reached out for her empty cup. Zelda saw it. She slowly looked down at the muddled wet remains.

“Oh.” Curling in, she cradled the cup and continued to stare. “I didn’t notice my first cup of tea after all this time.” Her hair fluttered about at the shake of her head. “It’s… I recognise it wasn’t a truly momentous occurrence. I still wanted... a cuppa outside. No rotting roof between I and the stars. And I talk through it about paint and rocks.” 

That pattern of hers. Link recognised from ages past. True difference was, there was no real proprietary to uphold. Not here in the warmth of the fire and the sight of the passive stars. 

Link applauds. Smiling, big as the Gerudo desert. His clapping sends fireflies into the air. 

“Link come now.” Her blush is back. Accompanied by a slight smile. 

Link applauds harder. Brava. Brava! 

“Alright. Alright. I knew more about culture influencing chemistry than I previously implied.” She pantomimed pushing Link’s enthusiasm down. He does eventually settle, but his smile stays up and shameless. 

“Yes well.” Zelda holds out her cup. “Real first cup if I may be so fanciful?” They both soon had their refills. 

The fireflies had yet to abate. They danced about the grass. Flicking the evening dew with their flight. Some were blown up high into the sky by the chilly night wind. The pearl bright shine of the celestial map contrasted against the almost eerie daffodil green. 

Zelda took a deep breath and blew on her tea. She could already taste the honey on the steam. Very few houses in Hateno were still lit. A line of distant, blue torches ran up a tall hill to the windmill. Would she sleep in to the late morning? Or would she be too excited? How long would she stay with Link in his little house? Where else would she go? Wait… Link had a house… 

Link looked over with eyebrows raised as Zelda began to snicker. Shy puffs of laughter would escape. When finally she noticed her companion’s stare all the princess could offer was - 

“You’re a homeowner. _Link_ the _homeowner_.” He nodded slowly. She poorly hid her smile behind her small hand. “I’m sorry. I suppose I’ve never imagined you… domestic before.” He smiled at that. He ruffled his hair and curled his hands into ‘claws’. Looking about with predatory intent. Though he couldn’t for all his efforts rid the smile from his face. Zelda’s only grew wider. 

“Truly you’ve taken to the wild! The house a mere farce!” Clutching at her stomach. “How could I ever know?” Link did stop at that. He got her attention then tapped his temple. She curiously hmm’d at that. After a moment, he tapped his temple again then gestured to everywhere then back to his temple. 

“I… hmm.” So familiar. Him trying to impart something upon her while the dark settled just beyond them and water murmured nearby. “Everything? You thought I knew everything?” 

Link thought for a moment before an acquiescing nod. So close enough then.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but it’s not like being… connected to the Calamity granted me much sight.” The crickets playing were cacophonous compared to her private voice. “It was like being underwater and trying to discern cloud patterns. They were there and just beyond the rippling, clear surface. My consciousness tied to Ganon’s.” 

“The Blood Moon was this… bright presence above me. It was the only real way I could tell the passage of time. If a thought did ever come to me, it was worrying - worrying that I lost count.” Without that sinister touchstone she would probably be entirely adrift to that proverbial sea. Endless drifting with nothing, but Calamity Ganon’s rage and her desperate tenacity to hold on. To hold him back.

Her shudder was not from the dropping temperature. 

“Perhaps the next bit of tea we can take inside your lovely home?” He helped her stand and carried the tray inside. The birchwood chair welcomed Zelda once again. Link had refilled the kettle and added a fresh bag of flowers to steep. Their late friend’s weapons still on their respective cradles. 

“Link,” She dared to ask after some long and quiet time elapsed. “,did you dream? In the Shrine of Resurrection I mean. The research surrounding the effects were limited.” 

He wanted to shake his head no, but also nod yes. His long-term stasis primarily was in darkness. The ancient medical facility gently mended his wounds for a century, but he was unaware. Like the globe’s rotation around the heaven’s. Incomprehensibly fast, but unfelt by its inhabitants. 

Yet it was not a moment for Link’s perception. He did not go from injured captain of the Hylian princess’s guard to newly wakened amnesiac within the blink of an eye. There were odd flashes. Through a dark forest searching for someone. Stepping between worlds of light and shadow. Sailing on the open high seas. Playing a modest instrument. 

These did not feel akin to dreams for Link. Rather a life starting and stopping in the span of a heartbeat. Then the details being reset. Life then dark expanse then life again and anew. 

Some things were always present. A glowing triad. Fairies. A chestnut-brown horse. The sword without equal. Hyrule’s name. Ganon’s inevitability. And the voice of a princess. Hearing it over and over again. 

When he awoke to that same guiding sound, Link with nothing, but his name in his mind, followed it out into the light. 

Returning back to the present, Link was greeted by sad, green eyes.

“All that time stolen from you. From the entire kingdom really, but you gave everything.” Cool sadness melted into a cousin to anger. “How could this world begin to repay you? Hylia repay you? _I_ repay you?” Her clenched hands in indignant prayer upon the table. Once more she shook, though no windchill could take the blame. Her father’s low tolerance for frustration very much inherited, warring internally against the patience her late mother gently taught. 

(“My little bird, take a breath. You’ll have the time. I promise. I’ll be here for you. One day you’ll spread your wings. I’ll be there.”) 

When they were first introduced and Link took up the role as her protector, Zelda often lashed out at him. The infringement upon her freedom. A loyal dog primily to the Hylian king. A walking reminder of her unawakened power. Judging her, she imagined at the time. 

In her pride and perceived slights, the princess endeavored to never be the damsel she was seen as. No matter what glowing recommendation he came with. (“Did you hear about what happened in the courtyard. Guardian goes haywire and this boy defeats it with a bloody pot lid!”) 

Then came the day she was in distress. And Link saved her. His silence wasn’t anger or judgement. 

And then… 

And then there was the Spring of Power… 

Prayer. Always prayer in frigid water. In the same old ‘sacred’ garments. In the same old traditional way. In the same quiet that refused to answer, no matter how desperate and dedicated her prayers were. 

So once more in a soggy dress, entwined fingers pruning, Zelda was praying in the Shrine of Power. Link standing guard. Both with their backs to the other. 

“So why won’t you tell me-”Her voice broke and water was weakly struck. “What’s wrong with me?” 

She wasn’t crying. She refused. Denied the burning of her eyes. Some water splashed up and was dripping down her that’s all. Her breathing was laboured because of intense prayer. Above all else Zelda knew herself to be a scholar - she wasn't _playing_ at it. There was a rationality to this. There always was. If only she could clear her foggy head to think-

Arms wrapped around her. Carefully. They hovered just over the expanse of her trembling skin. Steady hands, larger than hers, more a golden colour than hers. Those strong and careful hands overlayed Zelda’s fists still shaking in the water. 

“Link.” Her voice was supposed to be more regal than this. More sure. A people depended on their leader’s voice. Clearing her throat, Zelda tried to admonish again. “Link, need I remind you that you are not to turn around whilst the crown princess conducts her prayers?” 

When he did not remove himself, she weakly pulled at her hands. He did not hold them. Yet he did not leave. 

She still couldn’t turn to look at her knight. Not with that water dripping down her face. 

“If I asked you to leave… would you?” 

Water sloshing. Ripples growing wider and distant. Her heart was an erratic horse charging towards a cliff as she finally whipped around. 

“Now you listen to me!?” Once more she was cruel to him. Once more, she the high-minded princess, fell back on throwing a tantrum because her words failed to contain her emotions. Why did Link’s silence always break that part of her free? This was worse than when Urbosa pulled her struggling from the very same Spring. He was not her friend. He was- “Time and time again you seek me out despite my protests. My very frequent protests!” 

Link sputters and is wide eyed. She’s never really seen him so wrong-footed. The frog test led to some minor flummoxing, but this is a whole new dimension of expression on him.

“And yet despite all that you still do not listen!” Zelda stood tall. Her voice finding strength. “Did I say to leave me?” 

He looked around. Quickly trying to calculate the correct response. 

“Well I did not!” Though, needless, the princess patted the water to her left. “We are going to conduct another experiment, you and I, right now. You’re the Goddess’ chosen hero? Perhaps your presence here will be beneficial.” Don’t smile. Don’t let him see it, Zelda mentally schooled herself. Perhaps a whirlwind of emotions when she felt so mentally raw, was also something he brought out of her. 

There was a pause. His eyes upon her back. Perhaps trying to see into her mood or discern some hidden meaning from her words. Her heart began to race again. That quiet doubt festering and gnawing at her mind. He could honestly refuse. This was in no way in any official capacity. Mere whim at best. 

Still he surprised her. Link did come by her side. In her periphery, Zelda observed him look upon the Goddess Statue. Once more, as when they first met to that quiet night on the roof, the princess would give up all the books in the castle to read past that placid face. 

Then Link began to pray. Head bowed and hands clasped together. There wasn’t a tension to his stance. Unlike Zelda’s attempts ranged from shaking hope to still apathy. Her knight still felt stalwart beside her. He genuflected harder to her father, but she hoped as she returned to prayer, the same old prayer… 

That him by her side was him at his most sincere. 

Now, as she sat across from him at the table, she couldn’t even imagine even the suggestion of cruelty towards him. In light of his actions, his heroics, merely the absence of rancor would not suffice. 

“Link!” He jumped at the burst after the long silence. “If you could ask for anything, have any wish granted, what would you ask for?” 

This is what he brought out of her. Enthusiasm. An energy bursting at the seams. It powered her mind, her projects, and her private passions. It was quite logical to put her efforts towards the origin of her inspirations. 

Rather than answer he improperly leaned back in his chair. Busied himself with his cooling drink. Rocking on the chair’s heel. A century hadn’t waned her intensity, but it was different. No nervous thrumming. 

“Don’t give me that look. You needn’t decide now.” After a pleased sip of tea. “Merely soon please.” 

Her old knight sat his empty mug back on the table. No coasters, but maybe that was common amongst people now, Zelda idly wondered. Though it could just as easily be solely Link. With a twirl of his hand, he gestured towards her with a raised brow. And a rather bold smile. 

“What? Me?” A firm nod and mischievous eyes. “None of that now. We did just establish you saved all of Hyrule.” From the base of his neck to the tips of his ears, Link was ripe-apple red. His hand was less sure, but still held out to her. “Very well, if you insist.” 

Not letting her own contributions towards victory be overlooked, she tilted her head and looked at the possibilities in her mind. What remained of the world was theirs. Zelda could suit up in regalia and go about from town to town. Let them know the news about Calamity Ganon’s fate as well as the return of the fabled Princess Zelda.

That … felt ostentatious. Surely word would spread about the battle. If the people of Hyrule were thriving without the royal family then who was she to disrupt that? 

A princess with no army and a crumbling castle? 

Perhaps then a better use of Link’s time and her new freedom would be to see the result of Hyrule’s one-hundred year metamorphosis. What had survived after all this time? How had the land and its fading monuments been repurposed? 

Did any familiar faces remain? 

Her shoulders slumped a bit. The wayward pondering of her mind a touch more wistful. 

Truly if only she had been faster. 

“As kind of a gesture- though an enjoyable thought experiment-” A deep breath. It did not steady her. Merely kept Zelda from going completely under. “I can’t. I can’t ask for anything. My assistance in the final battle was the start of making up for my inability to prevent tragedy in the first place.”

A hand to halt Link’s protest. Her head bowed. There were grooves in the table. Smooth divots the craftsmanship couldn’t erase. So many curves and cuts running together or criss-crossing. Maybe another bit of sanding could leave it with a bare, untouched appearance. But just as likely it might be a fruitless effort. Or swiftly made to be as meals atop the surface would begin again at carving new lines. 

“It was my job to prevent Ganon’s return. But I failed that. I didn’t stop the monster when he emerged from my home. Nor corrupted our defenses in tearing down our gates and taking lives!” Her right hand reluctantly let go of her cold mug. She had felt it cracking under the pressure. “I can’t ask for rewards for finally performing my birthright after the death knell for our kingdom, family, and friends finished ringing.” 

With a shuddering breath, Zelda pulled herself upright. She knew her smile was shaky while set against flushed cheeks and lost eyes. Her more proud veneer was back at the castle, in her old room, gathering dust. 

Looking back up to Link’s face brought no comfort. In earnest, gazing at the pinched lines around his stone-set mouth to the way his eyes seemed so distant. It was like looking at the shields hung on the wall behind him. She was reflected, but nothing else - no warmth. 

There was an absence from her throat. Where were her words? Link possessed some projectible countenance to communicate without words. This silence said… nothing. He was akin to a statue seated across from her. His expressions were often like shooting stars. His expression now was more like a black hole. 

He stood. Still stone faced and unusually quiet. Link walked away. From her and the suffocating space of the table. The atmosphere stayed stifling. Zelda couldn’t suck in enough air. Her eyes followed him. 

His house was a modest size yet his trek up the stairs and to his bedside might have taken longer than the century they just survived. 

The Shiekah Slate rested by the bed. The Wild Princess jostled. 

She still could not properly breath or speak as Link sat back down. For a bit, as the night matured into early morning, he concentrated at the Slate’s screen. She focused over his shoulder. 

What a joy it had been to discover the ability to capture real life. Crowding together on a momentous day. No one knowing how to stand. Revali puffing up his feathers, Daruk bold as ever, and Mipha slyly trying to stand closer to Link in shy increments. Urbosa posing oh so naturally. Link and Zelda aware of the negative space between them. 

When the image took whatever set up, careful or casual, fell apart immediately. Revali squaked, and Mipha yelped. Zelda braced for Rito impact. Link went stiffer than halberd’s handle. Daruk’s smile camera ready. Urbosa was camera perfect. 

That very day, that very image, was before her eyes again. Link held up the Slate. Then set it upon her limp hands. 

“I… I spent many nights making the Champions’ regalia. That particular blue a rare dye that we had to commission Hateno’s most skilled artisans.” Her words were slow to emerge from her dull lips. They were right there. So close. But they weren’t actually there. “Of course I was trained in basic textile practices. It was merely not a focus. Studies or prayer took priority.” She bit into her bottom lip to still it. 

“I’m so glad it still fits.” 

Zelda cried for the first time in a hundred years. 

“I don’t mean to be like this. I faced Ganon at the castle without fear in my heart, so why am I…? Why now?” Cradling the Slate close to her heart, Zelda shook as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. 

They, the Shiekah, her father, her friends, all of Hyrule, herself, Link, had worked _so hard_ . Sacrificed _so much_. 

Revali would never soar the skies again. Daruk never got to challenge his fear of dogs. Urbosa wanted to be the Gerudo to rid the land of Calamity Ganon ever infesting her people’s history. Mipha never got to share the armour she crafted Link or see her baby brother grow up. 

Did any of the family survive? 

_It had all been so unfair._

After everything that had happened, she knew she was strong and capable. Could face the apocalypse screaming in her face with jaws of miasma and not flinch. 

But right now she didn’t feel like a proud princess that upheld a holy lineage and saved what she could of the entire kingdom. Right now she felt so small. Like she had lost everything she knew and everyone she loved in a day. It all was so much. Her body shuddered as it emptied out. 

Eventually it did empty entirely. Her chest felt hollow and her eyes heavy. Breathing was so much easier. Carefully Zelda pulled the picture away from her. 

Those times were really behind her. The fundamentals of her reality ripped from this world so soundly only gravity survived. Tonight was the night of her first cup of tea and seeing the stars unfiltered. In a hundred year’s time she stood on her own two feet, and would spend every night after this without her friends by her side. 

All the future dawns that would rise would be without malice staining the golden colours. 

Objectively worth the - 

Unfettered wet sniffling. Looking up and across the table, Link’s eyes were filled with warm tears brimming. 

“Link.” Gentle as she dared. “It’s- I’m okay.” He scrubbed at his left eye with the heel of his palm. His lips pursed tightly. His shoulders tightly braced up. For a brief moment, he flicked his eyes over to her equally puffy face, but more tears threatened to spill.

“If anyone should be able to cry,” she took his tearbrushed hand between both of hers. “It’s you. It’s you, who woke up with just a name and me placing the fate of a Hyrule you no longer recognised on your shoulders.” 

“It’s you who still, without memory or tie to this world, sought to save it. Made flowers out of tragedy.” He tensed into a coiled pose as Zelda crossed over the middle of the table. “It’s you, Link, the Light of Hyrule, who deserves the compensation of the world, much less a few tears.” 

Link cried so unlike his fighting. On the back of his horse or in the bowels of the castle, he leapt about nimble in every moment. His sword swipes akin to dance movements. Grace in retribution and lean strength in his battle prowess. But Link cried like light rain dripping off a desert wall. 

Each one seemed to pain him upon its escape. His breathing wrong and out of sync with the heart pounding against his chest. His tears did not seem to empty. Zelda kept her hands anchored to his. Link tersely wept. On and on, no end to his quiet storm. When she felt him garner no relief, she tentatively made a decision. 

“Remember when you tried Goron candy for the first time?” 

They both did. Diplomatic missions to a land defined by an active volcano at its heart was always momentous. Stocking up on fireproof elixirs. The friendly denizens of Death Mountain offered to come down, but the Hylian royal family felt the gesture appropriate. 

Link - newly appointed Protector of the Hylian princess and Wielder to the Master Sword - gave a brief nod to Daruk’s friendly wave. 

“Princess!” Arms out wide and smile out wider. “Thanks for making the trip!” 

“And we thank you Chief Daruk.” Zelda bowed at the waist, and her guards a low nod in genuflection. A large stone table round surrounded by more cylindrical stone slabs. A roughly stuffed fire-resistant fabric set on Zelda’s ‘seat’. “Apologies my father can not join us today. He’s managing the Farmer’s Presentation back at the castle.” 

“The harvest is already here?” Daruk took a sip of mercury. “Which flies more, time or a Rito!” Slapping the table on his punchline. It trembled like an earthquake. A miracle it didn’t break. 

“A Rito sometimes sleeps. Time, I’m certain, does not.” She dared to quirk a smile at the riddle. 

“I keep hearing they sleep with their eyes open.” 

“Oh no. More often than not they tend to tuck their faces in the crook of their wings.” She explained patiently. The Goron Chief processed this a moment. 

“Rotten rocks.” He muttered then slipped a red rupee into his partner’s hand. To which the other Goron looked infinitely smug. Coughing awkwardly, Daruk gestured out to the various bowls around. The table filled with jewels, durans, and red spheres. 

“Help yourself! We’ve got quite the spread! I know you’re always up for grub, brother!” It was hard to tell if the red across Link’s face was from the attention or the heat. Elixirs prevented an untimely demise, but it tasted like sour cinnamon jelly with chunks and made one feel like they were dunked from head to toe in icy water leaving only a cold sweat. He shook his head, but Daruk was having none of it. 

“My sworn brother doesn’t even take a seat! I insist you take something.” The mighty Champion and leader of his people pouted. Link grunted under his breath and looked down at Zelda for direction. 

“Please partake. It would be rude to refuse.” She didn’t even spare him a glance. Understanding his orders, the Hylian knight leaned over and plucked a crimson ball. Link gave the Chief a mutedly raised brow. 

“You had those little pepper candies last time you were here. So we gave makin’ ‘em a try.” Close to winter meant the lava loving species stayed at home. Link would bring requested goodies. And Goron peppermints did sound interesting. He popped the morsel in his mouth. 

“Link! What’s wrong?!” 

“Brother, your face!” 

“Get him something to drink! No Hylians can’t drink that! Or that!” 

“Breath Link!” 

“Did he swallow it yet? Maybe he could spit it out!” 

“I think that also counts as poison to them!” 

“Really? Hylians are weird…” 

Link gripped his throat. The insidious clump of burning fire melted on his tongue, but refused to drop into his stomach. He watched the room dip in and out through bleary eyes. He panted. Tongue lolling out. Scrapping his teeth to try and chip _some_ of it off. Anything! 

When he thought surely soon he’ll black out, Link felt a large palm crack against his back. 

With a similar pop going in, the candy popped out. Falling forward, he braced against the stone table because his mouth was still on fire and his face felt so, so wet. He couldn’t tell from sweat or tears and maybe he could cut off his tongue because this was getting ridiculous. 

A small hand cradled his cheek. Tilted his head back. Gently brought a cup to his lips. And encouraged him to drink. Fresh milk poured down his throat and Link never felt such relief. Quickly he gripped the stone cup and downed the rest of it. He slammed it down on the table with a gasp. 

The entire room of Gorons and Hylians staring at him. This time the red flush across his face was very much from the attention. 

“You feeling okay, little guy?” Daruk carefully asked. Link looked over to him and gave a rough thumbs up. Then his eyes fell upon Princess Zelda by his friend’s side. In her hands was on empty bottle of milk. 

“Are you well again?” He stopped staring at the bottle to meet her eyes and nod. “Good.” Tucking away the empty container, Zelda straightened up. “Apologies for my knight’s behaviour. Perhaps we could take a brief recess before continuing?” 

Everyone broke about. Some milled out and others immediately ran from the room. No one was looking at the Princess or either Champion. 

When the room was cleared, Zelda patted down her outfit and directed a rather frigid eye at Link.

“It would behoove you to ask the components of foreign food before blindly ingesting them. That Goron candy was a concentrated ball of capsaicin as its primary and _only_ ingredient.” She walked towards the door. At its threshold she spared a glance over her shoulder. 

“If not for your own safety or the sake of the kingdom then at the very least the dignity of the royal family you represent.” At that, Zelda was gone. Link dug both of his fists into his eyes. Daruke gave him a few feather light pats on his small friend’s sore back. 

“She couldn’t be a little nicer with you nearly dying, sorry about that by the way.” Link waved him off. He really didn’t blame Zelda for trying to uphold professionalism in chaotic times. Part of his job was to represent the crown he swore fealty to. He stared after where she had been standing. He would serve forever, but would it always be like this?

“Give her time, brother. She’s a stubborn one like you. You guys are going to the Gerudo next right? Long desert. Plenty of time to grow closer.” His smile was back in full, genial force. “If that fails then give her one of these.” Daruk wobbled the bowl full of the land’s most dangerous candy. Link gripped the hilt of his sword and shot a look at his fellow Champion. 

“I’m just saying you’re sure to see a new, open expression.” Then fell into hearty laughter. Link wondering if he could report Daruk on attempt on his life. And Zelda just outside the door, hearing the whole thing. 

“Daruk was right in describing it as an… open expression.” She sheepishly tried. His hand still between her two, Link was no longer crying. He looked at her with something close to awe. “Honestly I don’t know how you kept your patience with me. Constant beratement and the subject of your protection detail fleeing.” 

Looking at the marred table when his eye contact was too intense. That really was another world and another time. That was another Zelda so different from who she was now it was like they shared the same body and name, but on the inside were incomparable strangers. 

Link pulled the Slate to him and swiped at the screen before turning it Zelda to see. 

Twelve images were displayed. She furrowed her brow. Wracked her brain to discern their importance. They appeared to be various locations around Hyrule. The Sacred Grounds was easily recognisable. As was Hyrule Castle and Sanidin Park. Seeing the Spring of Power and KaraKara Bazaar caused her heart to race. 

These photos were lovely to look at. Some with better composition than others. The one with the tree in particular was a touch awkward. 

“Did you take these on your adventures?” A headshake. “They look so… familiar somehow. Wait a moment.” 

That tree wasn’t awkward. It just wasn’t in the rain. It was absent of clouds and contemplations. She and Link had once taken shelter under its massive branches. A downpour that in no way impeded her appointed knight’s dedication to train. 

She had asked him a question then. Asked him in the hopes of an answer that would satisfy some terrible, clawing thing within her chest. 

That was the pattern! Once the cipher clicked into place, Zelda poured over the images. 

Riding their horses at the Park. Withstanding her father’s fury at the castle. Her rescue from Yiga foot soldiers. 

Anointing the Chosen One with such… distance towards what she thought was at best a thorn in her side. 

“This is… Link these photographs are our history together!” It was so hard to divide her attention between the evidence of their developing acquaintance, then begrudging comradery (on her part mostly), and then friendship, and Link’s grinning face! “So when I asked you if you remembered me at the Castle, this is how you did it!” 

Was this from the projection of her will to reach Link, photos she took, and forgot about, or a third factor? This could open up a whole new study on the Sheikah Slate! It might not just be calibrated to the Sword’s Chosen, but the darkness sealing princess? 

“You followed the breadcrumbs till we were able to meet again.” Zelda let her shoulders rest and her smile blossom. Both Hylians had shining eyes. “Thank you.” 

Link tilted his head, blushing to the tips of his ears again, and nodded.

Of course. 

“A century later and you’re still Link.” She breathed. Still smiling, Zelda pulled away to look over the Slate. “To think of the remarkable condition this device is still in even after being a part of your battle with Ganon.” 

He prompted his head up with a fist. Still smiling while watching her explore the various applications and functions it had to offer. The night and early morning were beginning to settle upon his eyelids. Like a claymore upon his back, it slowly weighed more and more. 

He could brew a more lively cup of tea or take another reviving dip in the water outside. 

Zelda in no way was showing signs of slowing dawn when a scientific and historical marvel was literally between her grasp. At the moment she was looking over the magical inventory. One of the greatest blessings that he could carry an armada’s worth of gear, arrows, and weaponry yet it never added even a pebble’s worth of weight. Allowed him to leap off Epona’s back and materialise the best tool for the job with ease. 

“Link? Link. _Link_.” He gave a low, acknowledging hum. “Please if you’re tired go to bed. I’ll be fine on my own.” 

He waved at that. Wrenched his falling eyes back up. It had been so long. Longer than a hundred years since this sense of calm settled around him like a warm blanket. He could stay up a bit longer. 

Besides Zelda should have the bed. His pack came with a bedroll or this table’s surface was awfully welcoming. 

“Why must you be so hard headed on this?” Cracking one eye open completely, he registered her bemused smile. “When I last said this I truly meant to be rid of your company, but now I say with absolute certainty and care for your person - I the person in question, am fine.” He didn’t really respond. Certainly didn’t stand up. “I promise.” 

Link shrugged. She sighed at that, but returned to perusing the map. Truly Link was still Link. Including the part where he refused to part from her side against all logic. Correction. Link’s actions in totality despite going against all logic or rationality. 

Only a man possessed with compulsions or Link, could have completed such a vast feat of cartography. The blueprints of a new Hyrule laid bared before her eyes. 

A new feeling began to grow within Zelda, as she traced the roadways and landmarks of her new reality. Instead of an unending world, this was a new opportunity. Start with what was most familiar. 

Zora lived a rather impressive life span compared to other species. The odds of a face she knew was highest there. 

Or she could hear the new songs of the Rito. She imagined it might be a rather fascinating experience to listen to ballads of legends she had been a part of. 

Urbosa’s people were surely as thriving and proud as ever. How Link could accompany her, her mind was unsure of. Most likely that tradition was alive as well. 

She wondered if the Gorons still made those little pepper candies. 

With a wistful sigh, she returned to the photos. Did Link remember the same things she did? He couldn’t remember how his face looked, so often of quiet confliction. 

With another tap a brand new wall of images greeted her. 

The pattern didn’t come as easily. At first notable locations. Then a dog. Incredibly intimidating enemies. Link smiling cavalierly with said incredibly intimidating enemies behind him. Another dog. Several horses. Was that Mipha’s brother? Good science he was all grown up! More dogs. A stranger with the sunset in the background catching the shine off her lavender vai outfit. The field where Zelda finally unlocked the power within her… 

She looked back at Link dozing on his arms. These were personal chronicles of his adventure before challenging the Calamity. 

Where for her, detecting him and anything beyond the castle grounds was like searching through a thick fog - a whole world really was out there. 

Hyrule, in fragments and patchworks was really alive. And her former knight had delivered not only salvation, but evidence. 

Quietly she freshed the kettle with more leaves and minded the still warm water in the cooking pot. Splashed a bit of milk in Link’s. And settled back across from him. The first traces of burgeoning golden colours began mixing into the dark palette. One by one the stars on the horizon began to disappear from sight. 

“Link… open your eyes… Link…” Shaking his arm, Zelda hesitantly prodded. 

He shot up like a crossbow. His left hand reaching over his shoulder to grasp at- 

“Link.” Zelda was here. In his home. At his table. Offering him a steaming cup of tea. “I should say good morning.” Pushed the warm drink across the table. “So good morning Link.” 

Stiffly he took his seat. Sleep still hung off his brain. If he looked away from his cup it ceased to be so he didn’t dare to take his eyes off of her. 

“I’ve been reviewing the data content of the Sheikah Slate and I must say you really utilised its capabilities beyond even what I theorised.” She babbled a bit on how this would drive her to completely rework most if not all of her hypotheses. Link slowly loosened up. 

When Zelda returned to the Slate’s Gallery, Link was himself enough to blush. 

“You chose quite the array of subjects to visually document.” Ignoring his sputtering. Her legs kicking back and forth under the table. “Really who knew the population of dogs in Hyrule was so numerous! The base statistical observation alone!” 

His head hit the table and he tried to cover his ears from her delighted analysis. The bit continued on as did his suffering. Finally she rested a sympathetic hand on his forearm. Link dared a glance up. 

“I went too far, didn’t I?” 

Link sat up and shook his head. 

“Oh I see then - you’re just dramatic.” 

He pretended to consider that. Eventually conceding with his fingers pinched close. Maybe just a little bit. 

“Well as long as you’re aware then.” She shifted her focus back to the various images. “A shame I couldn’t have been a part of this. Seems like a rather exciting experience. Also, I would have liked to organise and take notes.” 

Link stopped her from setting the device down completely. He held up a finger, like so many, many years ago and on the precipice of his property - just a moment. Accessorised with a wry grin. He reached over and pressed a button in the bottom left corner. 

Zelda could hardly remember to breathe. It was so, so beautiful. With shaking hands, she brought it closer. Beyond all reason it was even more awe-inspiring upon closer examination. 

A complete compendium of Hyrule. 

Every enemy type in order of battle ferocity. Documenting resources to acquire from them, weaknesses, and locations. Insects and lizards to fungi and flowers. 

“Oh this is-!” Covering her disbelieving, agape mouth. “It’s all here! The level of scientific progress to be gleaned off of just one category here, much less - I just-!” 

“Link!” She looked to him with a smile that gleamed with promise. “We could really help people with this information!” 

He breathed with his smile. Matched the cut of hers from ear to ear. He leaned forward. And as the new day fully crested over the horizon, the two leaned very close. Then with the sound like an unused door opening Link said, 

“I have so much to tell you.” 


End file.
